By Ann Murphy, Senior Account Manager, Third Hemisphere.
When I left London, I had a good job, big clients, and a comfortable career path ahead of me. I knew the ropes. Then I gave it all up and booked a one-way flight to Sydney.
The shock of starting over hit quickly. In London, I was the central hub for European markets – people came to me for answers. In Sydney, no one knew my name. The market was different, the business culture unfamiliar, and my strongest contacts were 17,000 kilometres away.
Starting again meant rebuilding trust and the unglamorous work of proving yourself in small increments. One phone call, one pitch, one coffee meeting at a time. It was bruising, but it taught me something I didn’t properly understand before – reputation doesn’t automatically transfer; you have to earn it twice.
Each small win carried more weight because it was earned without history on my side. I realised that risk compounds into resilience, and that sometimes, rebuilding from the ground up teaches you more than standing still never will.
Once I’d proved I could rebuild, the question shifted. It wasn’t “how do I succeed here?” It was “what kind of work do I want to build a career around?”
For years, I’d been part of global agencies, surrounded by big clients and global budgets. But the longer I stayed, the more I craved something purpose-driven. By then, I’d already triggered my notice period with no next step lined up apart from a flight home to Manila after living overseas for so long.
After a little soul searching, that curiosity eventually led me to Third Hemisphere, a firm focused on impact.
Hannah Moreno, Founder and CEO, Third Hemisphere. Image: supplied
Booking a one way flight for a job that technically, didn’t exist
I still remember hovering over the “confirm booking” button, a ticket from Manila back to Sydney, just for a meeting with a company that wasn’t even hiring. Friends told me I was reckless. Perhaps they were right.
After a long flight for what turned out to be a cancelled meeting, I found myself on a flight home twiddling my thumbs in defeat. Until I managed to wrangle another one four months later.
By that point, I had other offers. Good ones. The kind of roles that would have made sense on paper – stable, senior, and secure. But none of them aligned on my values. Like a dog with a bone, I’d already decided the path I wanted, even if the job didn’t technically exist yet.
When I finally met Hannah and Jeremy, I told them I was tired of doing work that looked good but didn’t do good. I wanted to work with people who cared about solving real problems through science, technology, and social policy. They spoke about purpose with the kind of clarity that made you want to run through walls. I was sold.
When the offer finally came, it wasn’t the one I expected. The role was part-time. Shit.
Jeremy Liddle, Managing Director, Third Hemisphere. Image: supplied
Fear knows how to dress up bad career advice as logic
I felt two reactions at once. First, the urge to accept immediately – because after all that chasing, saying yes would have been the neat ending. It would have been easy to justify – take it now, prove yourself later.
Second, a sinking feeling that I couldn’t ignore – this wasn’t aligned with how I wanted to show up. It felt like a punch in the gut being asked to step in halfway. It wasn’t a bad offer. It wasn’t unfair.
This is the moment people accept out of fear – and fear is a very persuasive career adviser. Many people do, for understandable reasons. A job, any job, can feel like relief when you’re uncertain or running out of runway.
But saying yes for the wrong reason can be expensive. Not always in money, often in confidence, resentment and self-respect.
For me, what I also knew was that saying yes out of fear would have undone everything I gave up that brought me here in the first place, including the kind of leader you don’t forget.
So, I said no. An excellent choice, according to no one in my circle.
Let’s make it bloody count. Otherwise, why bother?
That decision was terrifying. It’s one thing to take a risk when everything’s in your favour. It’s another to back yourself when it feels like the world might not.
That’s the part no one tells you about backing yourself: it’s equal parts belief and heartbreak. But in that uncertainty and the longer I sat with it, the more I realised that self-belief isn’t built in moments of success and is built in the space between rejection and resolution.
Turning something down isn’t arrogance if you can explain the reasoning clearly, I thought. And then I waited, trying not to talk myself into regret.
They came back with a full-time offer and I accepted knowing I hadn’t bent myself to fit an opportunity.
That’s when I understood what people mean by “alignment.” It’s the point where your values, your work, and your self-worth finally start speaking the same language.
My story isn’t unique, but it’s a reminder that sometimes you have to leap before the path appears and If something meaningful is pulling at you, don’t ignore it.
For anyone standing at the edge of a decision that scares them, take the one-way flight. The hardest choices to justify are often the ones that change you the most. Mine took me thousands of kilometres away, and right where I needed to be.
Feature Image, Ann Murphy, Senior Account Manager at Third Hemisphere: Image supplied.